


Floriography

by thuvia ptarth (thuviaptarth)



Category: Saiunkoku Monogatari
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, nongraphic child abuse, victorian au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:45:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thuviaptarth/pseuds/thuvia%20ptarth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is said that the language of flowers is as old as the days of Adam, and that the antiquity of floral emblems dates from the first throbbing of love in the human breast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heath (Solitude)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyofthethread](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ladyofthethread).



> For Saiun_Challenge's 2010 Secret Santa exchange. Summary and header notes from John Henry Ingram's _[The Language of Flowers](http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924067841738)_ (1887), thank you, archive.org.

> WHEN sorrow takes possession of the wounded heart; when love or fortune has proved unkind; when the best laid schemes are gone astray, what medicine can minister so well to the mind diseased as _solitude_ , of which this fairy flower is the token.

The first world Ryuuki knows is cold stuffy rooms and bleak rocky hills. Most of the year, all there is to look at is the sky, a glory of wild tumbling clouds that has him convinced, when he's very little, that when he grows up he'll have wings. When his mother locks him in the closet, sometimes he is able to calm his breathing by imagining the colors of the sky, snow white and charcoal grey and the purest and most heart-breaking blue. Most of the time, though, he just screams and cries until his voice gives out, and when his mother or one of the maids comes to let him out, he will be too exhausted even to crawl. The maids lift him and deposit him on the bed, where he lies trembling until he can see again; his mother just leaves him there, but at least it's no longer dark.

The second world Ryuuki knows is his brother Seien. It is his first clear memory, the green light through dangling willow leaves, the clean smell of earth and grass; the despair and exhaustion that make it impossible to move, the blank aftermath of sobs no one's answered, not even with a blow. Ryuuki hiccups, tiny painful bumps inside his chest.

"Is someone there?" Strong hands turn him over on his back. Sun-dazzle haloes pale hair; the face is a shadowy blur through Ryuuki's final, seeping tears. A cool hand cups the hot, damp curve of his cheek, the gentleness as soothing as the temperature. "Ryuuki? I'm your brother Seien." His brother lifted him up and put his arms around him. Ryuuki feels surrounded by warmth, filled with light, a feeling whose name he hasn't yet learned. He presses his face into his brother's chest.

After that, Ryuuki lives for the summers and the holidays between terms, when Seien comes home from school. Even the rest of the year is endurable now, though, because he knows Seien will return for him; Seien always promises him this before he leaves, sends him gifts--drawings, candies, dried leaves, pressed flowers--some of which even make it past the hands of his elder brothers who aren't yet old enough for boarding. Even after his mother punishes him, Ryuuki sneaks into Seien's room to sleep at night, at least until he can no longer smell the scent of his brother's skin and hair on the pillows, and he learns how to read and write so he can read Seien's letters. His mother won't let him send letters back, but Ryuuki writes them anyway, one every day, and tries to hide them in places where his mother won't find them so she can't burn them in the fireplace. When Seien comes back, he reads every letter which survives; sometimes they make him laugh.

Ryuuki can tell something is wrong when Seien is disinherited because his brother would never leave without telling him good-bye, but no one will tell him what happened. He thinks perhaps Seien has died, because the only other time he has seen his father was when his mother died, but his elder brothers, who still haven't left for autumn term, make fun of him being stupid when he says so. They don't hit him, but only because Father is home; when Father leaves for London, his brothers return to their former habits.

Ryuuki takes to walking out to the moors to evade them. The landscape that looked so stark from the house is not much the lovelier up close, with its ungiving soil that discourages crops, but in early autumn heather is still blooming, a purple more brilliant than any color Ryuuki has ever seen before. He rubs his thumb over the smooth petals, remembering the pressed flowers Seien sent him.

The housekeeper scolds him when she discovers where he's gone; he is not supposed to go outside the house on his own. His eldest brother, smiling slightly, whips him with a leather belt; because in these cases it's supposed to be for Ryuuki's own good, he does it in Father's study with the door open, where the servants and their other brothers can see. Ryuuki endures it silently. His brothers strike much harder when there's no one else to witness it.


	2. Geranium (Deceit)

>   
> The Scarlet Geranium, which is not only the most common, but also the most popular, of all this genus, is, strange to say, recorded in the language of flowers as the emblem of stupidity.

The Fellows' Garden at Trinity College is too crowded for meetings, Shouka says, and inconvenient for Shuurei, who as a woman is not allowed onto the college grounds unaccompanied, so instead everyone meets for Ryuuki's lessons in the tiny garden behind Shouka's house. Shouka joins them every day for tea, taking an afternoon break from his duties as University Librarian; when Kouyou or Shuei is particularly angry about Ryuuki's indolence or inattention, they let Shouka make the tea. Even that can't erase the taste of Shuurei's currant scones.

Kouyou is explaining something, the Laws of Motion or taxation during the Tudor period or integral calculus, but this is much less important than the alert look in Shuurei's eyes or the way a loose curl drapes over her collarbone. Ryuuki props his head on his hand, smiling at her, until a book slams on top of his head. He yells, bringing his hands up to protect himself from another blow.

"Pay attention," Kouyou barks.

"It's easier to pay attention when my head doesn't ache," Ryuuki says, rubbing his skull.

Shuurei taps Ryuuki's loose notes with her pen. In the margins of the top sheet, he has doodled a geranium, an apple tree, and a scowling demon whose lowered brows make him bear a remarkable resemblance to Kouyou, if he does say so himself.

"Solve this equation, if you please," she says primly. He pulls the notebook closer, debating which answer to give. If he gives the correct answer, Shuurei will smile at him, but if he gives an incorrect one, she may lean over his arm to explain his error. It's a little dangerous: whenever she bends her head over his book, so close that their arms brush together, he has to fight the temptation to lean down and place a kiss on the nape of her neck.

He takes his chances.


	3. Lily of the Valley (The Return of Happiness)

> _The Lily of the Valley,_ sometimes called the May Lily, and in some country villages Ladder to Heaven, in the floral languages of Europe is emblematic of _the return of happiness,_ doubtless in allusion to the season of the year when it puts forth its timid little blossoms.

Ryuuki stands looking down at the garden, his back to Seiran's sickroom, because if he looks directly at either Seiran or Shuurei, he will not be able to speak. Cold breathes through the glass; frost makes the garden look like a fairy tale, awaiting some girl whose cleverness or boy whose bravery will thaw it like spring. The air is sweet with the greenhouse flowers Ryuuki has brought, roses, lilacs, lilies of the valley.

"I had a brother whom I loved," Ryuuki says. "My second oldest brother, Seien. He was the only person who cared for me when I was little. When my other brothers died, I thought Seien would return ... I thought my father would be glad of it, because everyone praised Seien, but he never changed his will; he left everything to me. I have always wanted to return the estate to Seien. I have never considered it truly mine." He turns finally, forcing himself to meet Shuurei's eyes, although he cannot prevent his smile from twisting. "I was ... just as careless and irresponsible as you thought, you see. It was not a pretense after all."

Shuurei rises and takes his hands in hers. "But it's different now," she says softly. "You're different. I'm sure your brother would be proud to see what a fine man you've become, how prosperous you've made the estate. How well you've cared for the people for whom you're responsible." She turns her head. "Right, Seiran?"

Seiran's eyes are clear and steady and kind, and his smile is exactly like Ryuuki remembers it, exactly.

"Yes," Seiran says.


End file.
